


Off-Key

by lollki



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Aged-Up Characters, College, Kuroo knows how to play the guitar!, M/M, Non-Penetrative Sex, Pining, Shotgunning, Weed, alcohol mention, nervous Tsukki, overthinking Tsukki, recreational drugs use, the sexual themes are still kinda tame though, tsukki is a proud shit but he still has feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-15
Updated: 2016-02-15
Packaged: 2018-05-20 21:17:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,503
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6025297
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lollki/pseuds/lollki
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i> "Tsukishima checks his phone for the sixth time in the last thirty minutes. He knows he's good to go at this point because it's still around twenty minutes to get to Kuroo's by foot from where he's at now. The display that showed 17:31 before now shows 17:34 and Tsukishima feels like his perception of time is actually suffering due to confusing emotions.</i>
  <br/>
  <i> Kuroo invited him over as soon as he heard Tsukishima was staying in Tokyo for a few days and at this point, after six months of resistant denial, Tsukishima knows he was thrilled at the prospect, knows he couldn't conceal how Kuroo's face, his voice, the way he talked made him feel different." </i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Off-Key

**Author's Note:**

  * For [vai_xu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/vai_xu/gifts).



> oh my godddddd i literally rushed this one so much like it's a trainwreck (i'm a good writer! really!)  
> I wrote like half of this drunk (some of these things don't even make sense honestly), then edited while i'm staying sick at home - i've never even posted explicit before! the end is super rushed too OTL i might edit this when i'm not sick anymore but atm i'm just like hrrrghgg
> 
> @lisa: i'm sorry you deserve better than this ;A;
> 
> @everyone else: please overlook this blasphemy in my favour this one time

Tsukishima checks his phone for the sixth time in the last thirty minutes.  
He knows he's good to go at this point because it's still around twenty minutes to get to Kuroo's by foot from where he's at now.  
The display that showed 17:31 before now shows 17:34 and Tsukishima feels like his perception of time is actually suffering due to confusing emotions.

Kuroo invited him over as soon as he heard Tsukishima was staying in Tokyo for a few days and at this point, after six months of resistant denial, Tsukishima knows he was thrilled at the prospect, knows he couldn't conceal how Kuroo's face, his voice, the way he talked made him feel _different._  
The only problem in this whole introverted celebration of acceptance was that he doesn't know about Kuroo's motives, which he tried to regard from every possible angle just last night when he was lying sleepless on Akiteru's living room sofa.  
  
Kuroo was by no means a simple person – he liked to convey the message that he was easygoing and relaxed and that nothing got him out of pace but by careful observations Tsukishima has constructed a picture of him that was more realistic and more accurate than the one Kuroo seems to have of himself. Not to say he was delusional, just that Tsukishima considered himself a pretty good observer.  
  
The ring of the doorbell is nervous when he knows Kuroo's roomates are gone for the weekend.  
It's a promise, a prospect of just the two of them together and even though he enjoys the buffer of having Bokuto and Akaashi around, the thrill of knowing this whole thing is going to be one on one excites him like nothing else.  
Not that he'd admit it.   
  
When he got off the subway he actually had to take a break and convince himself that he needed a bottle of water from a nearby store just so he could stall the encounter for another five minutes which didn't do much, however, if not strengthen whatever shivering cognitive processes rolled through his mind at least seven times up until now that day.  
He's overthinking and he knows it but it doesn't keep him from doing exactly that.  
Chewing the what if's and if only's until they taste boring and sour.  
  
Until he gets to the point where he's actually standing at the doorstep to Kuroo's he's had four internal breakdowns, seven impulses to flee the country and about one hundred thoughts of „chill the fuck out.“ which are all being released and exhaled once Kuroo rings the buzzer and tells him to get up to fifth floor.  
The elevator ride is the most agonizing thing Tsukishima's ever had to endure, the uncertainty in his eyes staring back at him through the wide-panel mirror.  
  


  
Kuroo Tetsurou is a bit over 6 feet tall, he has hair that is as black as the pit and untamable, his mouth seems to constantly be conveying mischief, his thoughts are as accurate as an arrow to the heart.  
When he speaks Tsukishima knows that his thoughts have not just occured to him that second but that he's observed his environment for their accuracy, because where he's laissez-faire he's also calculating, no matter how little that makes sense.  
  
The Kuroo Tetsurou that's leaning against the wood of the doorway is even more attractive than the one Tsukishima's had dreams about.  
  
„How's it going in Kyoto?“ is what he asks first and no matter how much Tsukishima wants to say „It would be better if you were there.“ all that slips past his lips is „Okay.“  
  
„Nice to see you again.“  
  
Without further ado Kuroo lets him step inside and he's welcomed by the warm living room he remembers so well from former encounters.  
Most of the time Bokuto and Akaashi were already waiting inside, greeting him with more (Akaashi) or less (Bokuto) polite casualties. This time the room is empty yet it strangely feels fuller and more exciting than it had ever before.  
  
„You want something to drink?“  
Tsukishima sees Kuroo's firm back retreating into the kitchen space, his casual clothes fitting his body, pulling where he stretches and riding low where he's relaxed.  
  
Tsukishima licks his lips that feel very dry, suddenly.  
„Just water is fine.“  
  
Even though he can't see Kuroo's face he knows the other is smirking when he says:  
„Oh come on, live a little.“  
  
Tsukishima changes his choice to „Alright, beer then.“  
  
It's actually kind of ridiculous when Tsukishima has to remind himself that when people open a beer can with only one hand instead of two it is definitely not something you should find hot, just something you should find impractical but the way the movement seems practiced is smooth and cool like the liquid that touches the back of his throat when he takes his first gulp.  
He can't remember being that thirsty when he was still outside the house.  
  
For a moment he notices that Kuroo is watching him with what? Curiosity? Interest? Tsukishima stores the question away for a moment where it's more suitable to be thinking about things.  
  
„So, tell me everything. How are your roommates?“  
  
Kuroo means well by these questions, Tsukishima knows, but at this point they're nothing but torture and they do nothing to release the tension in his shoulders. He knows he should be trying to relax but (un)surprisingly, that's probably the most difficult feat he's come across in a long time.  
  
He counters the question, inquiring about Bokuto and Akaashi and where they'd gone for the weekend.  
„They're doing gross couple stuff, I don't know.“  
  
„Ah, I see.“  
  
Tsukishima stretches his legs and lets them tip off the edge of the sofa, slanting downwards. He doesn't know if the situation really is awkward or if he's just imagining it out of hopefulness but the way his heart won't shut up is definitely a dead give-away about how _he's_ feeling about the situation.  
  
„So... They went to Osaka? Have you ever been?“  
  
Tsukishima fucking hates small-talk.  
  
„Yeah, a few times. It's cool.“  
  


Tsukishima just nods and takes another sip when Kuroo practically jumps up out of his seat.  
„Listen to this sick tune I discovered a few days ago.“  
  
Able fingers connect the aux-cord that streaks black into the cream-white carpet to a phone and Kuroo seems to be enjoying himself, a mild smile playing on his features.  
Then music comes on and Tsukishima listens to electronic beats paired with an acoustic guitar.

  
Tsukishima doesn't think he's ever met someone other than Kuroo who was able to pinpoint his taste in music this accurately. Kuroo's never showed him anything he didn't like and that is, even by Tsukishima's fairly high standards, pretty impressive. From what he's picked up in conversations with Akaashi (who is still the easiest to talk to out of the three) Kuroo is actually quite talented, musically.  
He never made a big deal out of it but aside from being able to play at least two instruments fairly well, he also has the ability to group people's taste in music and accurately predict what they would and wouldn't like.  
  
In more simple words that means that his party-playlists were always enjoyable to everyone, which is exactly the reason why he's in charge of those.  
  
Fortunately for him that means that the awkwardness in the room finally dissolves because if there's something they both equal parts enjoy, it's music.  
  


  
\---

  
  
„I'm not sure...“  
  
A few hours later Tsukishima suddenly realizes that he's perceiving very intently, more so than usual. The room is bathed in oranges and yellows that reflect with how he's feeling inside, leave him warm and heady which might be the effect of the alcohol he's had even though he's not used to drinking.

Kuroo seems like he's practiced the movements many times before, when he whips out tobacco, weed and rolling papers.  
His fingers are smooth and nimble, like he's working tiny mechanics.  
He crumbles the weed into small parts with only his fingernails and he's so fast it's actually kind of surreal.  
  
The times Tsukishima tried smoking weed with Yamaguchi don't even come close to this expertise - he's so casual about it.  
  
„It's not a big deal, Tsukki. You only take like two hits and you'll be fine.“  
Tsukishima starts taking in what's really going on around him. How there's still music in the background he's not even paying attention to, how the lights in the neighbouring houses are continuously flicking off the later it gets, how Kuroo watches him when he's not looking.  
  
He knows he's getting his hopes up even though he shouldn't but his intoxicated self lets him fantasize for a moment and imagine Kuroo getting up swiftly from point A to point Tsukishima and kiss him like he doesn't care.  
  
He wants to feel what everyone's talking about and he's starting to care less and less about what his parents tried to convince him is wrong. He likes boys. So what? It's not like it's any of their business.  
  
  
„Besides, this is way better than the shit you get in Osaka. My dealer's a pro.“  
  
The moment where Kuroo brings the almost-finished joint up to his lips and sticks out his tongue makes something in Tsukishima's stomach turn.  
He swipes over it quickly and just how practiced the movement is leaves Tsukishima biting his tongue to prevent any snide comments he has in store.  
He keeps them down because he knows he doesn't really feel them anymore, at this point.  
  
It's just the room, Kuroo and Tsukishima wanting to get this over with so he can be his usual, rational self.  
  
It doesn't seem like that's what Kuroo has in mind though, because the asshole looks him straight in the eye when his tongue gets to the last bit of paper and even when he tucks it into the other end to form a perfect shape. It looks like he's trying to challenge Tsukishima with his eyes only and even though Tsukishima is not easily impressed, he manages.  
  
Kuroo knows that and Tsukishima knows that and it feels like there's no going back at this point.  
  
„You wanna light this up? It's fine if you don't.“  
  
Tsukishima forgets to be sarcastic and breathes out: „Yeah.“  
  
The door to the balcony opens with a clack and releases fresh, outside air. For a moment Tsukishima is actually worried that neighbours might notice but then he recounts the many times Kuroo's told him he's just about to light it up and Tsukishima is actually pretty positive that after this long a time the neighbours have either gotten used to it or don't mind.  
  
He doesn't want to admit the thought of being caught thrills him and just goes with it while Kuroo is taking the first drag and he's closing his eyes in a way Tsukishima has imagined so many times before but in a different context.  
  
The feeling of longing, the insecurity, just how much more he's aware of what's going on around him is what he's trying to cancel out when he watches Kuroo sharply inhale, focusing on his breath, eyes still closed and unable to notice that Tsukishima is looking at him.  
  
He's tilting his head back when he exhales and there's nothing the younger would rather do than touch his index and ring finger to Kuroo's neck just to feel what it's like when the tension there relaxes and he reacts by leaning his head forward, maybe even lingering in the touch.  
  
If he really did he'd probably feel a crease in the flesh but he doesn't do that and doesn't feel that.  
Even though there's so much going on in the middle of Tokyo all Tsukishima's eyes draw to is lips and smiles and eyes. He doesn't understand how someone can be so indifferent to their appearance and still look so good.  
  
At some point Kuroo passes the joint and Tsukishima notices the faintest brush of fingers that set his mind racing about what the contact means.  
Is it intentional? Casual? He feels like blocking out the clatter in his head and takes a drag, the sting of which makes him remember he's not as cool as Kuroo but he tries to conceal this and takes another hit that's probably too deep for his lungs to manage.  
  
After Tsukishima hands the joint back, he receives Kuroo's smirk for this, as if he's trying to say „baby bird growing up.“ and shapes his lips into an „O“ when he inhales again, this time maintaining eye-contact with his opposite. Tsukishima tries to keep up his air of indifference but the longer he stares into those black orbs the harder it gets and he has to look away.  
  
When he turns back there's already a cloud of smoke pulling from his lungs upward. Kuroo coughs up a little, then laughs. „How embarassing, _you_ didn't even cough.“  
Tsukishima wants to counter with a snarky comment but Kuroo is faster.  
„Wanna try shotgunning?“  
  
The only time he's tried this was at a festival with his friends so he knows how it works and he is also very aware of how close you had to be for it.  
  
Even though Tsukishima can already feel a light buzz which he knows will only grow stronger, he agrees because there's no way he's passing up this opportunity.  
He might be proud but when your crush asks you if you want to practically make out through thin air you'd have to be crazy to decline.  
  
Kuroo wets his lips with the tip of his tongue before he puts the joint in his mouth backwards, careful enough not to burn his tongue. With a motion of his hand he asks Tsukishima to come closer and when they're only about a hand's breadth away Kuroo props his fingers against both of Tsukishima's cheeks (which Tsukishima knows isn't necessarily crucial to shotgunning) and forms a tunnel that makes it harder for the smoke to escape.

There's only a moment of eyecontact before Kuroo lowers his glance to Tsukishima's lips and nods to tell him he's good to go. Through slightly pursed lips Tsukishima inhales with his stomach and his eyes flutter close in the progress. Kuroo's fingers on his cheeks are burning holes into his sensory memory and when his lungs are full he dreads to pull back out of his touch.

Feigning indifference he still does and blows a perfectly white cloud of smoke between them that dissolves into air. Kuroo is still looking at where his lips part with the smoke and lowly says „Nice.“ at the amount he was able to inhale. Tsukishima isn't sure whether it's the weed or the sudden proximity of him and Kuroo but his head is spinning a little until Kuroo's hand on his shoulder grounds him.

„Let's go back inside“  
  


  
The room they reenter smells a little like home even though the overlaying scent of beer and weed takes away some of that effect.

The walls are painted a cream colour that seems more yellow in the glow of the ceiling light. Tsukishima sees Kuroo's shadow move before he sees him.

With care he maneuvers his step over the cans they left on the ground and his papers and the stray crumbs of tobacco still left on a notepad and sits back down on the carpet, cross-legged.

Tsukishima involuntarily moves two inches closer to him when he adjusts.  
He almost doesn't notice himself but he's still sober enough for this to be an _almost_.

 

  
The conversation flows back into a normal, casual pace and it's only after about 30 minutes that Tsukishima starts feeling an effect that hits him like a train, without warning and head-first, throwing him back against the edge of the sofa he remains leaning against. After losing track of what Kuroo is saying he closes his eyes and watches the blurred, colourful shapes that occur behind his eyelids.  
  
Kuroo seems to catch on because he can feel his voice closer than usually, saying „It's pretty strong, huh?“  
  
Tsukishima still finds it in himself to nod, moving the back of his head against rough fabric of the cushion.  
„I don't usually like it, actually. It makes me think too much.“  
„Really?“  
„Yeah.“

  
Kuroo halts to think for a moment. He seems considerably unaffected, probably due to the fact that he's used to it.  
He mentioned smoking a lot of times before even though Tsukishima considers him reasonable enough to not be an everyday user. Then again out of all the people he knows Kuroo is probably the one who'd manage the best if he were.  
  
After what seems like a minute of silence but is in actuality only a few seconds, Kuroo speaks again.  
„I think I know what you mean. It usually helps for me to listen to music.“

Tsukishima doesn't react at first because he doesn't know what to answer but then he does crack an eye open to peer at his opposite, heavy-lidded, through thick frames. „Yeah?“ he asks and attempts to straighten his lax back.  
  
„I was hoping I could show you the tune I wrote. It doesn't have lyrics but...“  
Tsukishima tries to sound less eager than he is.  
„Go ahead.“  
  
At this Kuroo seems to brighten up and gets up to grab his guitar from behind the sofa, with an air of pride to him that he usually doesn't display that way.  
He sits back down and lets his fingers pick at some strings in what looks like a gliding motion but Tsukishima knows isn't. The way he so effortlessly ghosts across the soundboard shows that he's improved since the last time they met and Tsukishima feels a weird sense of pride.  
  
After concentratedly tuning and adjusting the instrument until he finds it suitable he picks up the first chord.  
  
It's a strong strum that sets heavy into Tsukishima's ears and without caring about appearances he lies back against the sofa and closes his eyes to be able to fully enjoy the fine, single notes that follow. The melody builds up like a wave that is just about to hit the shore and plays into another wave, growing, growing until it bursts against rough stones just like the two chords that follow harshly and contrast against the prior lightness of the tune.  
  
Tsukishima is positively entranced and doesn't notice himself leaning up and forward; it's like the music is luring him in like a siren call.  
His focus shifts nervously from Kuroo's fingers, to the tune, to the way he sticks out the tip of his tongue in concentration. Unconsciously he touches his fingers to his bare elbow and lowers his lashes until his eyes are almost closed, still listening, still attuned to the melody that is nothing but skillful and soothing.  
  
  
He eventually closes his eyes and for a second manages to give up control and just focus on the music, so far that he doesn't even notice when it fades into silence and he feels a familiar weight lift off the bridge of his nose, the slight pinch gone.  
  
When he looks up again he can see Kuroo's face only inches apart, studying his features, with his hand behind Tsukishima's left ear, pulling his glasses off and setting them on the table.  
  
Tsukishima has become too slow to follow what's happening and only realizes when Kuroo's up in his breathing space and suddenly there's a pair of lips that teasingly pull his bottom lip between them.  
  
The touch lasts only for about five seconds but sets wildfire through Tsukishima's body.  
  
When Kuroo draws back to find a reaction Tsukishima follows him for a few inches too much to be indifferent and Kuroo grins a mixture of the mischievous grin that's all too familiar to Tsukishima and another, unknown one, that's warmer and more caring. It seems he knows what he's doing when he looks down and bites his right canine against his lower lip, slowly, pulling it in a way that could only be described seductive but his eyes glint challenge.  
  
The feel of Tsukishima's hair against Kuroo's fingers is just the tiniest bit damp, he draws his hand through the short locks back behind his ear, pressing against the soft side of his neck.  
Tsukishima's breath hitches barely notably when the press of fingers gets stronger and pulls his head up against hot, expecting lips a second time.  
  
This time the sound is wetter and his own mouth more eager, sliding his lips against the other's while soft hands that wrap around the back of his neck, making Tsukishima's spine straighten and feeling the pads of Kuroo's palms smooth out the shiver that ripples through him with a stroke to his shoulders. The sound that Kuroo hums against his lips is a low, throaty one and Tsukishima can feel himself subtly arch against him when Kuroo's hands position at his waist and slide warm fingers under the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it up to reveal a slip of pale skin.  
  
With a tighter grip Kuroo draws the other a little closer, then cups his palm over Tsukishima's hand to grab it and move it so it's positioned over Kuroo's firm stomach.  
  
He lets go but Tsukishima's hand remains, feeling how the muscles of his abdomen clench when he twists down to kiss him again, Tsukishima leaving a shuddery exhale against his lips when he dares slip his hand under Kuroo's shirt to feel the muscles skin on skin.  
  
Kuroo's lips slant up into a wicked smile at this and he urges forward, kisses Tsukishima hard against the mouth before leaving it to slide his sharp teeth across the skin of Tsukishima's neck that his thumb is pulling taut.  
  
A quiet moan rips through the air and Tsukishima rolls his head back, closing his eyes with a furrowed brow.  
„Shit, that was hot.“ Kuroo's whisper sounds in his ear and he starts sounding a little more on edge than he did before.  
  
He mouths at Tsukishima's neck another time and leaves the skin between his teeth for a moment, dragging it until another throaty sound leaves him and Tsukishima's head falls back against Kuroo's steadying hand. The other one busies itself with slipping under the waistband of his pants, wrapping itself around the base of his erect cock and giving it a lazy pull that leaves Tsukishima's entire body limp and pliant.  
  
„Feels good?“  
Kuroo tries again and receives a quiet gasp this time when he shifts his hips and moves them against Kuroo's hand, like in response.  
  
The pace he sets is agonizingly slow at first but picks up quickly and after only five minutes Tsukishima feels just how starved he's been for this. He repositions himself even though the loss of contact comes close to painful and notices Kuroo taking hold of the opportunity to pull him firmly so he's positioned in Kuroo's lap.  
  
Through the fabric of Kuroo's sweatpants that ride low on his hips Tsukishima can feel he's fully aroused and experimentally grinds down, feeling the clothed bulge press against his ass.  
  
The reaction he receives is more than satisfying and Tsukishima is thankful he's near-sighted because the sight of Kuroo's face in bliss, his bottom lip glistening wetly, his eyes shut tight when Tsukishima rolls his hips another time is not something he would have wanted to miss.  
  
Kuroo's hands find their way back to his hips and he grips bruisingly tight, a non-verbal plead to not stop and Tsukishima obliges this once before he feels the hand back on his erection and goes back to giving up control.  
  
Tsukishima's back arches at the tight, full drag he feels and his head flops down weakly against the other's neck. He knows they're both too close already, not accustomed to how good it feels, how hot the other's breath feels against skin, painted red in arousal.  
  
Tsukishima spills embarassingly fast and doesn't leave his quiet, moaning „Tetsurou.“ unheard.  
Kuroo groans when the younger uses his first name and ruts against him frustratedly, his hand sticky and hot.  
"Come on. Just-"  
After clashing their lips back together into a feverish, carnivorous kiss Tsukishima reaches the hand that's still resting against Kuroo's stomach down into his sweatpants, grabbing him firmly under the thick, cotton fabric and jerks until Kuroo is reduced to a panting, groaning mess and he can feel the trickle of warm, sticky precome against the back of his fingers.  
  
Tsukishima perceives the sudden, irresistible urge to bury his teeth into Kuroo's neck and follows up on it, his hand still gliding against the flush cock.  
From this position he can hear his every sound, all the gasps, all the sharp inhales, every groan when Tsukishima angles his hand _just right_.  
But it isn't until Tsukishima says, daringly and in a low tone against the shell of Kuroo's ear „next time, I'll let you fuck me.“ that he reaches his edge and comes over Tsukishima's hand with a low, feral sound.  
  
  
  
Even though the room is less quiet than it was when Tsukishima arrived, it feels more so.  
  
Somewhere, the static hum of their refrigerator starts up and teases Tsukishima's ears while Kuroo is still panting against his right shoulder, not yet able to move.  
His forehead feels damp and even though Tsukishima urges himself not to, his hand cards through the black mess Kuroo calls his hair.  
  
The hum he receives in change is more rewarding than Tsukishima's pride at seeming unaffected.  
  
Tsukishima doesn't want to be the first one to talk and fortunately, Kuroo relieves him of this burden when he whispers: „You should come over more often.“  
His voice is paired with a quiet, hoarse laugh and he exhales long and deep before he straightens back up, moving over to the living room table and unfolding Tsukishima's glasses.  
Before he sets them back on the bridge of his nose he kisses him, with less hunger than when he did it the first time and Tsukishima responds with his own, even though he's no less confused than he was before.  
  
„Do you want to stay over tonight?“  
  
The difference between Kuroo and Tsukishima was that where Kuroo was good at reading people, Tsukishima was bad at it. He knew that those words carried implication and that maybe Kuroo's intentions were one thing or the other but at the same time - and this was a conclusion he wouldn't have come to without Kuroo - Tsukishima should start watching less and being more. Yet the reason why Tsukishima says „Yes“ is not because he's lovestruck and hopeful, it's not because he wants to act up on his last promise that left Kuroo affected in ways he couldn't have imagined, and it's not because it's late and he doesn't want to ride the subway all the way back by himself.  
  
He says „Yes“ because for once in his life he doesn't need to know where he's going.  
  
  
  


 

 

**Author's Note:**

> tell me what you think, it'd make me very happy :}


End file.
